Oliver Twisted
by Lady Grizabella
Summary: A story that happens after Oliver! the musical. Bill Sikes lives another day to form a gang of his own, including the Artful Dodger, the lovely Lucy, Oliver Twist, a messed up Bet, and a very wacked out Mrs. Bedwin. Truely twisted, the whole thing. *DEAD*
1. Bill Sikes

Note: This story will make very little sense to a lot of people __

Note: This story will make very little sense to a lot of people. This was written during and is now being worked on after I was in a local production of the musical Oliver!. I'm writing it specifically for a group of people I know, but I figured I would put it up here so I could have a copy of it online for safety reasons. So, if anyone does enjoy the characters from Oliver Twist, I hope you enjoy this. Note, this will involve a very naughty Mrs. Bedwin, quite a bit of dying, a scythe, knives and probably lots of blood. It's not called Twisted for nothing! For confusion purposes, Lucy is what I named my chorus character from the musical. 

Oliver Twisted 

By, Lady Grizabella

With Some Help From My Distinguished Local Cast of _Oliver!_

Part One

~*****~

The man groaned and painfully flipped himself over onto his stomach. He was lying in a pool of his own blood, left for dead by everyone he ever trusted. No one. The man trusted no one except for his faithful dog, Bullseye. Even his dog had deserted him. Left him in favor of a steak and a warm bed, no doubt.

The man moved his hand to his chest and felt warmth flooding over his skin. He was able to stick his fingers into the open wound in his chest and he cried out in horror and revulsion. He knew he was done-for. He had a new emotion – anger. He screwed up his face in a terrible scowl and muttered a name. "Fagin!"

As the anger possessed him, his strength came creeping back. The pain in his chest was drowned out by the pounding of rage in his head. Fagin had gotten away and left him to bleed to death on the hard pavement. He then realized he had one hand in the river. He winced as he noted he must have fallen off the bridge. He felt around with his dripping hand for the boy. Damn, the boy had lived. He was another factor in the inevitable demise of the great Bill Sikes. But like the mighty phoenix he would rise from the ashes to kill again. Fagin, and the boy, would die. But he would need help. Someone who would understand him. Not like that good'un Nancy. The betrayer. Someone who he could sympathize with…

~~~~~

Lucy leaned against the counter in the Three Cripples Pub. She sighed and blew a strand of red-blond hair out of her eyes. She looked at the bar tender. He, however, was looking at her pale cleavage.

Lucy was oblivious. Her cheeks were stained with tears and her heart felt as if it had nearly been broken in half. She half-heartedly slapped her hand down on the bar. "Get me a Gin, will you, Love?"

The man raised an eyebrow, but poured the drink. "You've 'ad eight, Lucy."

The girl heaved a heavy sigh and shrugged. "Put it on my tab." She grinned painfully at him and ran her tongue over her teeth suggestively. The gesture was effective, but tears were hidden behind her tough façade. The woman she idolized had been brutally murdered by her other obsession, the handsome but harsh Bill Sikes. She couldn't understand how it had happened. Bill was a very violent man, but he would never really hurt Nancy badly. Everyone was slapped around and they never died. It had practically happened right before her eyes while she was out slumming by the river with her friend Katie. Nancy was found dead and then her mysterious Bill was shot and killed. Her best friend Bet who adored Nancy had fallen over her body and practically lost her mind. Bet's boyfriend had helped her off somewhere, and Lucy didn't know where she was. "I 'ope she's alright. Oh, Nancy! And Bet…poor sweet Bet!" In her mind she added, "Oh…Bill!" 

Lucy slummed around at the bar for a little while before she felt like she was going to pass out. She had consumed two bottles of Gin and her sadness had been numbed for the moment. She stumbled out of the door, almost knocking into the doorframe as she went. She righted herself and headed out into the night, pulling her shawl around her shoulders more firmly. 

She padded through the back alleys of London, just trying to get home. "Bet 'ad better be there," she thought to herself. "It's too late to be runnin' 'round. It must be three or four o'clock. She can't stay away forever." She thought of her bed and how she didn't want to do anything but curl up under her covers. Of course, throwing up seemed good too at the moment. She weaved a bit and fell onto the ground, too tipsy to continue.

~~~~~

Lucy stirred again when she heard a clock chime five times. She opened her eyes a slit and looked up. She was covered by someone standing over her, nothing but a dark shape silhouetted against the street lamps. She opened her mouth to scream, but a hand covered her mouth. A hand covered in something damp and dark. She tasted blood. A shriek rose in her throat but no sound could penetrate the heavy hand held over her lips. "Don't scream." A harsh voice hissed through the darkness.

Lucy gasped. She grasped the hand with both of her own and she tore it away from her mouth. "Bill?" The word rang through the darkness.

"Quiet!" he muttered and pulled her up to her feet with one strong arm.

"You're alive'!" she exclaimed. "But you're bleedin'!"

He clutched his chest. "Don' fuss over me," he growled. "It's just a scratch."

Lucy rolled her eyes. "You're practically dyin'." She shook her head to clear it and balled her fists. "Serves you right, too, for what you did to Nancy, you brute!" She raised her fist and popped him in the shoulder. Bill stumbled and grunted, but didn't retaliate. He had done enough damage for one night. Lucy turned her back and wiped her eyes to clear them of the tears of agony that had been creeping in all night. "I'm glad you're alive," she said softly. "You've gotta get some 'elp." She moved to him and slid under his arm.

He shot her a look, but accepted when she tugged his arm over her shoulder to support him. "What are you doing?"

"Taking you 'ome. 'Opefully Bet won't come in and see you. She's 'ad enough of you."

He shrugged, but mentally shuddered to think of Bet. He had killed Nancy with no thought at all, but now he was considering the consequences. Not that he was worried about how Bet felt about it. He was more worried about his own skin. And Bet would talk, he was sure of it. She would tell someone he was still alive. Then he might have to kill her and the other girl too. "No, don't take me to your flat. Somewhere else." 

She helped him along. "Your flat?"

"NO!"

"Alright, alright!" She looked at him. "You ain't gonna kill me too, are you?"Bill sucked in his breath quickly. "I don' know." He looked at the ground and then darted his eyes around. "Jus' get me inside!" 

Lucy resisted the urge to give him another punch. "You're so creepy. Bloody 'ell!" She pulled him along through the night.

*~~~~~*

Disclaimer: All characters except for Lucy were invented by Charles Dickens, not me. Any situation or phrasing similar to any other written work is completely coincidental and was completely unintentional. 


	2. The Artful Dodger

Oliver Twisted

Oliver Twisted

Part Two

~*****~

The Artful Dodger crept along in the street, clutching his arm. He sniffled and pushed his hat down farther onto his head. He tried to move his arm, but it made tears come to his eyes so he kept it buried deep inside his coat sleeve. Fagin had been horribly drunk and took it out on Dodger when the young boy had broken a teacup. His arm had been practically wrenched from the socket and it was still smarting violently. Dodger wished Fagin had some other kids to abuse for once. And it was all that Oliver Twist's fault. Little goody. Dodger began picturing Oliver committing dreadful crimes and he felt better about the whole business. He would like Oliver a whole lot more if he were mean like Dodger was, and not at all cute. Unfortunately Dodger _was_ cute. Damn. But Dodger was also haughty and distinguished and Oliver was not. Take that, little punk!

A gravely voice cut through Dodger's thoughts of Oliver domination. "Deserted are you, Dodge?"

Dodger leapt back and struck his head against the stone wall. "Who's there! Stay back! I'm armed!" He reached into this pocked and produced a…noserag. He looked at it in humiliation, stamped his foot, and brandished it at the stranger. "Don't make me use this here…noserag!" His hand shook but he thrust the handkerchief at the stranger like a real champ. 

The stranger's laugh rang out. "And what were you plannin' on doing with that, m'boy?" 

A glint of steel cut through the air with a zing and the Dodger cried out in pain. His sore arm was pinned to the wall by a large knife and the tip had dug itself partially into his flesh. He howled. "Let me down from 'ere! Me father… 'e'll 'ave your 'ead. I'll see it roll in the gutter!"

A woman's high voice rang out from behind the man. "Let 'im be, Bill. 'E ain't done nothin' to you. Fagin ain't been treatin' 'im right an' 'e's scared to death." The woman turned out to be a young girl with a brown top hat perched precariously on the top of her head. Dodger grinned and fingered his own hat. The girl was older than he was, but yet she looked so much like him that he felt pleased as punch. 

The man, however decked out in his own matching brown hat making the two of them look almost revolting adorable, was terrifying as all Hell. A shiver of cold fear ran through the Artful one as he realized who the man was. "Cor!" He dropped the noserage, wrenched his arm free from the knife, and took off in a dead run down the dark street. "Help, help! Bill Sik-!" He was tackled from behind and felt the cold sting of the knife blade piercing his neck.

A struggle took place above him then. The young girl had leapt upon Bill and pulled a knife out of her garter. She held it against Bill's neck. "Let 'im up, Bill. 'E's with us."

Bill tossed her off and she went rolling, but he laughed. "Lucy m'girl. Are you stealing my blades again? I told you that you can't 'ave a knife yet. Ain't you 'appy with your hat?" 

She pouted but fought a grin. "Well, yeah."

Dodger quirked an eyebrow. This was…interesting. But what matter? All he knew is that he wanted to be a bandit as great as Bill Sikes. He got up off the ground and brushed off his little suit. "Say, if I joined your gang, could I get a knife too, like she 'as?"

Bill gave him a surly look for a moment. Children were not always his cup of tea. " 'Suppose so. If you do what me an' Miss Lucy 'ere say."

Dodger brightened and grinned at the girl. "Lucy! Ain't you one of Bet's friends?"

The girl lowered her eyes and tilted her head so that it was shaded by the top hat. "Yeah, she was my friend. But now I can't find 'er."

"I know where she is, poor girl!" Dodger chirped. "They took 'er away in a coach!"

"Don't that sound familiar," Bill grumbled.

"But she didn't go to a nice place like Oliver! They took Bet away in a jacket that bound 'er arms all up. She was screaming something 'orrible, crying over Nancy."

Bill winced at the sound of Nancy's name. "Don't speak that name to me, Boy!"

"Sorry! But it's true!"

Lucy sighed. "I shouldn't 'ave left 'er with that boy. I should'a dragged 'er 'ome, even if she was crazy." 

Bill growled. "Don't worry about that little bit. She'll get us into more trouble than she's worth. She always was a little nice'un, just like HER."

At this point Dodger gave Bill a mighty tug on the back of one of his coattails. " 'Ey! Why ain't you dead, anyway?" Dodger couldn't stand not being the center of attention for very long. 

Bill glowered down at him. "I lived. Which is more than I can say for you if you get cheeky."

Dodger nodded and thrust out his hand. "I'm at your service, Mr. Sikes!" He grinned. This was going to be so much more fun than working for Fagin. Maybe now he could actually cash in on some real goods and get some attention all for himself. Mr. Jack Dawkins thrived on praise.

"Good. Keep it that way." Bill took one of Dodger's small hands and pulled him along. He offered Lucy his arm and the three walked along the shadowed street towards the seedy riverbank. To innocent passersby, the three of them might appear to be something of a happy family. A rather filthy, scummy family, but happy no less. But the wheels in their heads were spinning. Bill was thinking about Oliver and Fagin and about how he would settle with them, but Lucy was thinking about her old friend Bet and what had become of her. She knew she had to find out where she had been taken and get her out. She would never leave an old friend out to dry even if her Bill wouldn't like it. She began to make plans immediately, but first she needed a good bottle of Gin. 

~*****~


	3. Bet

Oliver Twisted

Oliver Twisted

Part Three

~*****~

Young Bet sat on her bed in the tiny padded room she was now calling home. One hand idly played with a heavy metal chain with a leather cuff. How long now until they came to chain her to her bed? How long would she be able to stay calm before the madness hit again? Her other hand clutched a long-dead rose that she had found in the pocket of her apron. She vaguely remembered. It had been from Jon. She immediately threw back her head and let out a howl. Her voice was hoarse, both from lack of use and occasional screaming. She flopped over onto the bed. She tried to pull at her hair, but it had been cropped quite short so that it fell in little ringlets around her ears. It wasn't very pullable. She gathered all of her limbs into a fetal position and lay quietly, having no way to harm herself. 

After some time, there was a rattle on the bars over the window. Bet listlessly shifted her eyes in that direction. There was a dark shadow outside. She opened her dry mouth and breathed, "Nancy?"

A pair of small hands tugged at the bars. "I'm Lucy."

Bet blinked. "Lucy?"

"Yes. Would you like to go home now?"

Home? What was that? "Yes," said Bet. She didn't know where she was going, but she didn't care. Lucy seemed nice, even if she didn't remember her. Bet needed someone to take care of her.

Lucy stepped up onto a wooden crate she had pushed under Bet's window and pulled out a crowbar. She edged it into a crack in the wood under the bars. Bet approached the window in curiosity. "What's that?" She pointed at the crowbar. "I've seen that."

Lucy faltered. Of course Bet had seen it. It was Bill's. "Er…It's just somethin' I found."

Bet accepted this. Her mind was hurling through thoughts like a blazing comet. 

Meanwhile, Lucy jammed the crowbar into the crack and pushed with all her might. Like most of the ancient architecture in merry old London, the hospital was not built all that strongly. The wood around the crowbar burst and Lucy was able to push in the window a bit. "Right then, Bet. It's time to go."

"Go? Out there?" Bet shrunk away and pulled a blanket off the bed. She wrapped it around herself and pulled it mostly over her head like a shawl. "Out there?" she repeated. She lifted the dry rose and took a bite of it, munching on the petals.

Lucy felt sick to her stomach. What was so wrong with her friend? She…ate that rose. Still, she couldn't bear to leave Bet. "C'mon, Bet. Take my 'and. I'll get you something to eat an' something fresh to wear. You're covered in…" Lucy faltered as she realized it was old bloodstains. "C'mon then, girl." She held out her hand. 

Bet saw the hand and she wanted to hold onto it. More than anything she wanted to be held. She dropped the rest of the rose on the bed and ran to Lucy. She held onto her arm in a death grip. "I want to go 'ome! I want to go 'ome!" Her eyes were filled with desperation. "They tie me to the bed!"

Lucy reached in under the bars and took Bet under her arms to help lift her out. Bet wrapped her arms around Lucy for dear life. Lucy pulled and the two of them ended up in a pile of limbs and skirts and blanket on the ground. It was soon apparent that Lucy was lying on her stomach with Bet sitting on her. She was winded. Bet looked down at Lucy and remarked with a hysterical laugh, "You're soft."

Lucy wheezed. "Slide off, will you, Darling? For a moment?"

Bet obeyed and Lucy rose, brushing herself off. "You like the Dodger, right?"

"Dodger?" Bet took Lucy's hand and practically glued herself to Lucy's left hip. 

"You remember him. Little dark haired boy? Cute as can be, but 'ating every minute of it?"

"Oh." It was unclear as to whether or not Bet actually remembered.

Lucy was feeling more steadily creeped out by the second since she had discovered Bet. "Well…we're going to go see 'im right now." She decided not to be afraid of Bet. After all, the poor girl had been locked away and she just needed someone to look after her. Lucy took Bet's hand in a firm grip and headed off. "You ain't scared of the dark, right…?"

~*****~


End file.
